Saturday was my birthday. I turned a whopping 33. Let us observe a moment of silence in solemn remembrance of my lost youth.

Saturday was also my kids' big AYSO season opener soccer tournament. Their father was there, too. Which means I got to experience the euphoric joy of spending five solid hours of family time with the man I loathe above all others: the ex. It was 40F outside that morning. He brought the girls in t-shirts, shorts and flip-flops. He didn't bring their jackets. He didn't bring their uniforms. He didn't bring their cleats. Have you ever tried to play soccer in flip-flops? On top of this, it rained. A lot. All day. Nothing like being dressed inappropriately in cold weather AND soaked to the bone. For five hours.

Sunday was Mother's Day. And my dogs tried to kill each other. Literally.

My black lab was lying on the floor chewing her Nylabone when my German shepherd decided to take it from her. The lab lunged forward and the gnashing of teeth began. Normally, during their little skuffles, waving a shoe in the air with the threat of an ass-whopping is enough to get them to retreat to seperate corners and go about their business. Last night, I beat them mercilessly with the shoe. I thwapped them several times with a broom. And it did nothing to quell the growling, slobbery mass of angry fur before me. When my black lab latched onto the shepherd's throat, I threw myself on top of her thinking if I could get her to the ground, I could break up the fight. She released the shepherd's now bleeding neck and starting scratching and nipping me to let her go.

As I pulled myself up, she lunged again, this time snagging the shepherd's ear and ripping it back and forth like a squeaky chew toy. I yelled for one of the kids to open the back door and managed to wrestle the dogs to the entry way. I had them both my the collar, both pulled up on hind legs, hoping the choke collar sensation would help. It didn't. The lab lunged at the shepherd again. This time, she missed and bit my stomach, her teeth sinking into my flesh like a hot knife through butter.

She released me quickly and jumped again toward her intended target landing a death grip on the shepherd's eye. I pushed open the screen door and - using some sort of pure adrenal stength I didn't know I had - pried the lab's mouth open with my hands. I kicked her squarely in the stomach to get her out the door and onto the deck.

I pulled the door shut behind me and sat down to survey the damages. The blood was everywhere - up both my arms, all over my shirt and jeans, on the carpet and wall... and my poor shepherd's head was coated in vibrant red.

I cleaned the two of us as best I could with shaky arms and locked the bandaged shepherd in the bathroom while I brought in the lab to check her out. Aside from a small bald spot above her eye, she was totally uninjured. I made up a bed from a large box and some old blankets, gathered some food and water and showed my lab to her temporary new digs in the basement before tucking in my now terrified children and calling it a night myself.

@Adkins - both are female. The shepherd is spade. The lab is not. You're not the first person today to tell me this could easily be the problem. I just don't know why it would have taken a full year for the issue to manifest.

2) If you are/were bleeding take yourself to the doctor. I don't want to worry you by suggesting rabbies but puncture wounds are bad and I don't know how clean a dogs mouth is(e.g. risk of infection). If its/was at all serious you should have it looked at.